


Gone Astray

by Marasa



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: And safe, Anxiety, Columbus - Freeform, Far from home, Fluff, Indie!Tyler, Josh just wants be warm, M/M, Slow Burn, and Tyler has a nice smile, josh dun - Freeform, most likely indie, punk!josh, rot your teeth, tyler joseph - Freeform, vinyl records
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-11 00:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10451067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasa/pseuds/Marasa
Summary: On the crest of unconsciousness, Josh was jerked awake by the faint sound of movement behind him, startling him and injecting a heavy dose of adrenaline and anxiety into his bloodstream. But then came a voice like revolving vinyl that spat something lovely and beautiful, high pitched and perfect."What are you doing on my roof?”





	1. Chapter 1

Josh shivered under the persuasion of the chilled and calloused hands of the bleak November wind. It pinched his nose and cheeks with pointed nails, leaching the dwindling supply of warmth across the expanse of his skin. The blood which was once pouring from his nose had now dried into a maroon crust over his lip, the crystallized film itching with every gust of icy air.

The disheveled punk shuffled down the alley, hoping the universe would cut him a break. At the very least be spared from an unnecessary mugging. A robbery would mean a physical altercation and Josh didn't exactly want to engage in another fight at this time. There was barely enough energy in his bones to walk. Drenched in the shadows of the dark, all sensation was absent except stuttered breath, pain in his muscles and the chaos of his thoughts. 

Overthinking led to regret and considering the mouthfuls of blood he had swallowed, the desire to change the events of the night would not sit well against the ripped lining of his stomach. The man gritted his teeth as he attempted to keep the thoughts of pain out of his focus, a plan of self hypnosis that would convince the mind that the branches of discomfort spreading through the roads of broken blood vessels and cut skin was in no way legitimate. 

But the cherry neon liquid coloring his skin was the embodiment of truth and always had been the truest thing on Earth since the dawn of time. It was a rock for one to ground themselves on and it just so happened to be flowing through his veins, or rather, out of breaches in bruised epidermis and onto his shirt. 

Josh’s defeated train of thought was derailed most violent with the sudden whispers of gentle music that drifted in between ribbons of frosted wind. Melodies wafted through the air and ghosted his ears with caressing fingers of poured silk and dripping porcelain, the taste of glass nectar replacing the taste of blunt metal on his tongue. 

The beaten man stopped every movement in his body as to not slip from this pocket of trickling music, all the while cursing the billowing wind as it blew past his ears and obstructed his hearing. When the invisible, tumbling beast’s chilly roars subsided, he wrapped his crooked finger around the string of escaped notes and quieted his rigid bones to allow the wayward rhythm to lead him to the sounds of Heaven.

Limping, Josh carefully followed the music, the volume growing with each heavy step he took closer to the building on his left. Finally, he stumbled upon the place where the music reached its apex. Josh stood on the sidewalk outside of an older home, tufts of overgrown grass and a chain link gate keeping dogs and other pests away. Soft, magma light shone onto the roof a few inches below the windowsill of an open window and music seeped out of it. Music and light trickled out of the window to create a pool of swirling lava and careful melodies on the roof tiles. It was Heaven. 

The punk let his eyes wander to the window, the scene instilling an odd peace deep in his being. The feeling was something of nostalgia, an ingrained comfort forgotten after years of self neglect. 

Life had torn through him and his bad decisions had devoured his chances of ever having a promising future or even a shred of safety. Josh spent his time standing in the corners of underground venues that smelt like tobacco, whiskey and sweat, a lovely concoction that would intoxicate the primal side of his soul. 

His existence was a chipped razor blade, dried mud on a boot, needle teeth against skin. It was nothing of humanity or vitality. Pure instinct and depravity instead fueled his life and this music like a nightingale brought with it an olive branch of a potential escape. Overcome by the beauty, Josh’s mind stalled and before he realized it, he was pushing past the gate and climbing up the drain to the roof of the two story home. 

Pulling himself up onto the roof, hesitation welled up in the grooves of Josh’s brain. Maybe this was trespassing. Most likely. But Josh reasoned internally that this would be just another regret that he could stew on as he licked his wounds if it came to that. He didn't have much to lose anymore. 

Josh crawled sloppily across the gritty tiles covering the roof toward the open window, intent on keeping a small distance away so he wouldn't frighten anyone potentially inside. He wasn't a dangerous person in any way, never one to openly enjoy terrorizing others, but his bloody and bruised face and the pair of brass knuckles he carried in his pocket convinced strangers otherwise.

After waiting for a moment and ruling it safe, Josh laid down by the window just under the windowsill, practically invisible, and listened to the music ringing through the air. It was relaxing, but the voices etched into the pressed vinyl contained a hint of sorrow and melancholy that tainted such beautiful melodies. To Josh, that made the music even better.

A friend he worked with in an underground music club back in Austin had told him true artists were tortured souls. Mark always said compelling things over the screaming music and thudding bass which would usually be lost in the blasting noise, but for some reason, Josh had thought about it more than he should have. He wondered what Mark was doing right then. Probably pouring drinks for some gutter punks as the wailing guitars cracked the ceiling, occasionally brushing off plaster dust from his stained band shirt.

A wave of escaped warmth crept across his skin from the window, a taste of pleasure that was carried away almost immediately by the wind. Josh shook violently whenever the gusts of ice blew, his nose running a light red substance, half mucus and half blood. He refrained from wiping it, afraid his whole hand would become wet, contributing to his current freezing state and leading to the inevitable frostbite of his lean digits. 

Josh’s eyes slipped closed, dryness burning them to tears and his mind slipped into a state of dull pain, forgetting about the night, about Austin, about the below freezing temperatures. On the crest of unconsciousness, Josh was jerked awake by the faint sound of movement behind him, startling him and injecting a heavy dose of adrenaline and anxiety into his bloodstream. But then came a voice like revolving vinyl that spat something lovely and beautiful, high pitched and perfect. 

"What are you doing on my roof?”

The voice was as gentle as the surrounding music, albeit worried about the bloody stranger feet away from the open window of his bedroom. Josh didn't move, hoping his body would somehow blend into the shadows cast by the moon but he was illuminated by the light that bled from his room. "Excuse me,” the higher pitched voice rose in volume, “can I help you?" 

Josh cursed under his breath, already knowing he was being banished from this soothing spot. He sat up without turning around, not only in shame but also in the attempt to shield his bludgeoned face from whoever’s roof this was. He scooted across the roof with a grating sound that was uncomfortably loud so he could slide off the side roof. 

"Sorry. Please don't call the police. I'm leaving," Josh waved behind him, the nervous sweat on his palms freezing as he neared the edge. He sniffled, the blood from earlier returning with newfound urgency. Nerves were trembling under his skin not only from the cold but also from the thought of having the police called on him. If he was arrested, there would be no way Mark could get him out. They didn't have the money and a night drive from Austin to Columbus wasn't practical. 

Before being completely scared off, Josh managed to summon his last bit of courage. “Actually,” his voice shook against the cold with major anxiety, “can I get a towel or something?" There was silence and then with a deep breath that touched the very bottom of his lungs, Josh turned and revealed his bloody face. 

In the window stood a male about his age but with a smaller figure. His hair was fluffed up and Josh wanted to laugh at the way he was rocking the duckling look so easily. The man’s features were not very clear as he was standing in front of the light source coming from his room, leaving the front of his body in shallow darkness. Josh could, however, see the man’s eyes widened at the sight of the mess on his face. 

Josh’s entire body was locked as he prepared himself to jump off the roof if things went wrong, but the man’s expression softened before he disappeared to the side of the window out of sight. When he came back, he held a pale olive towel in his right hand. They both had a silent stand off and once the stranger saw that Josh would not be moving toward him, he threw the towel underhand to him. Josh caught it easily before it had the chance to hit the dirty roof, bringing it to his face to wipe away the blood and further buried his face in the plush fabric, enjoying how it shielded his face from the biting air.

"Thanks," Josh mumbled, wrapping the now stained towel around his swollen knuckles and continued off the side of the roof where he landed with a muted thump, ankles whining after absorbing the fall. The other man sat looking out the window with furrowed brows, searching the expanse of the lawn colored in the shade of midnight in search for a lanky yet muscular figure that was bleeding and freezing. Not a single movement showed itself other than the bending branches in each gust of wind and he gave up, finally closing the window. 

Josh found an abandoned car in a field behind a farm about ten minutes away from the stranger’s house, the one that bled music, light, warmth. With a sigh of relief to finally have a shield from the wind, he immediately threw open the door and crawled in the ripped back row seats, smelling suspiciously of rat urine and crack smoke. He had never been one to be picky, especially when it came to sleeping arrangements. 

Back in Austin, he was lucky if he found a place to crash considering he had an inconsistent income and was always on bad terms with his roommate. Using the towel as a makeshift shield, Josh knotted his hands in it so he wouldn't have to lose his fingers in his twenties. He still needed them to drum and eat. He wasn't ready to lose them just yet. Before he slipped into sleep, Josh managed to hiss out a swear at the realization that he would have to return the stained towel.

It would be easy to keep it and move on to the next town that got him closer to Austin, but Mark had always told him to make sure he never owed anyone anything. Josh’s friend was a firm believer in karma and the balance of the universe which was one of the reasons Josh considered him so profound. Josh thought it a shame that Mark wasted his wisdom and intelligence on him. 

Over the blaring music one spring night, Josh had screamed to his friend that Mark could be one of the greatest men in the world if he wanted to be. His friend had nodded with a light smile and the younger punk had wanted to cement it in his friend’s head that he was being sincere and that it wasn't the booze or pot talking, but he knew it'd be no use being heard or having an in depth conversation during a screeching guitar solo a few feet away. But Mark had said only suckers owed people things. That had stuck with Josh for some reason.

He couldn't stand the increasing pain and exhaustion any longer and he surrendered to the limits of the human body, passing out as the wind beat on the window, wanting so desperately to drag him into the street and finish the job that group of douches at the club had started. And with the ghost of a smile on his face at the fact that the whole world wanted to rip him apart, Josh fell into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Shards of sun cut Josh’s corneas as soon as he opened his eyes. The sun sucks when one had a semi-hangover and aching muscles. Turning his head, Josh buried his bruised face into the seat under him, only to flinch from the putrid scent of filth activated by the autumn sun. 

Every fiber of his muscles ached from lying contorted for so long that his entire body screamed for mercy every time he shifted a centimeter. He desperately needed a shower and his stomach was aching after not having anything to eat since early last night, if three shots of whiskey counted as a meal. Stewing in his seemingly perpetual discomfort for a few moments, he made peace with the fact that sleep would be the only medication that would ease him. 

When without the proper resources to treat such a concoction of ailments, it was better to stay unconscious through the worst of it. He had lived by this theory and had many a time drank a significant amount of vodka to numb his mind, one notable being when he got stitches on his hip after jumping from an amp. That was stupid.

Josh adjusted himself in the backseat to where his neck wouldn’t be crimped when he laid back down to return to sleep. His calculated movements, however, resulted in the bloody towel that had previously been laying on his chest to fall on his lap with a muted thud. The crunchy, olive green towel that was now bejeweled with crystals of crusted violence indicated he had an obligation, a task to complete so he wouldn't be one of the victims of the universe’s cruel streak.

With a sigh, the beaten punk kicked open the loose car door and fell out sloppily, legs disobeying him in favor of giving into the temptation of staying useless. He forced himself up with a whine of acute pain and stood hunched over under the pressure of swelling bruises. Stumbling, he dragged his feet in the vague direction of the house he had found last night, towel gripped tightly in between scabbed fingers acting as a stabilizer for his blurring mind under waves of pain. Every step garnered a gasp of pain and his mind cluttered with hollow promises to his body that the discomfort would end as soon as he got to the house. 

After minutes of walking without making it any nearer to the desired landmark, Josh began to limp slower, unsure of whether or not the attempt to restore balance in the universe and clean his plate of any future potential favors was in vain. Just as he looked up to scan the surround area for another place to sleep, knowing he wouldn't find the house, he recognized a few choice fire hydrants that he had passed the night before. 

The sun had already set long ago and the moon was now taking its position against a backdrop of stars, allowing streetlights to illuminate the sharp graffiti sprayed over each fire hydrant as he passed. Josh stepped out of the ring of light from a street lamp and into the shadows of the dark where the white orb that floated in a sea of black watching him was more prevalent. The punk was sure the moon knew him by now, just as it did criminals and prostitutes. He was almost exclusively active during night hours. It had been that way a majority of his life considering that he preferred to sleep through his hangovers well into the evening and the hardcore concerts he attended didn’t begin until near midnight. 

Josh’s body stilled as the light of the open window came into view once he turned the street corner he had stumbled down yesterday. With a deep breath, he readied himself to visit this kind stranger again. Josh passed through the chainlink fence and his eyes skimmed hurriedly over every inch of the antique house in front of him as he analyzed the best possible way to position his feet on the climb as to not injure himself further. With the map of his specific footing in his mind, the punk slid over to the storm drain, kicking through clumps of dead grass with the small towel thrown over his shoulder.

Tonight, another vinyl record spun on the record player. It was a woman’s voice this time, but it still contained the shaking sentiment of a heart breaking in each note. Josh made it to the roof and carefully inched forward, almost forgetting why he was here in favor of falling into the stream of music. 

Hesitantly, he pulled himself from the current of beautiful melodies and folded the dirtied towel as neatly as he could in his lap. He crawled closer to the open window and placed the olive and crimson towel on the edge of the window with the same amount of silence as the shifting moon. Pleased at his accomplishment and feeling the weight of such obligations leave him, he smiled to himself and turned to leave. Just then, a voice stopped him.

"You can stay if you want. I don't care." 

Josh turned his head reluctantly. There was the generous boy from yesterday, currently sitting on top of a low desk inside the room, right in front of the window. He tried to hide the disgust on his face as he picked up the towel and further saw the condition it was in. He instead shifted his eyes to Josh but the stranger couldn't help but wince upon seeing the bruises on Josh’s face. The blood had been wiped away, but now the clumps of broken blood vessels speckling his face was apparent. A black eye and a split lip were the injuries that were the most prominent, each looking like they hurt with an intensity that the stranger would never have to know. The boy’s face softened and Josh stayed unmoving on the roof, surprised at the other male's acceptance of his messy demeanor.

"As long as you keep quiet, and my landlord doesn't know, you can hang out on the roof," the boy sitting inside said and picked up the towel with his finger and thumb and throwing it into the depths of his room and out of sight. With great hesitance, Josh crawled to the window and with careful movements, outstretched his bruised and scabbed hand. "Thank you for yesterday. I'm Josh."

The other froze but thawed at Josh’s genuine look of appreciation and took his hand. "You’re welcome. I'm Tyler." They shook hands in the muted lamp light.

As soon as he had taken his hand back, Tyler asked what had been on his mind since the night before. "Can I ask why you were up here?" Tyler looked at the other male, taking in his appearance fully as he was now close enough to be illuminated by the light that leaked from his room. He was being careful, cautious. Josh was a stranger and he was sporting some hardcore gear. 

He wore black jeans and a loose t-shirt ripped at the collar to reveal a pale collarbone, mohawked hair dyed a deep sat messy and clumped in some places with what Tyler presume was blood, sweat and maybe old hair product. His ears were decorated with many piercings as well as a black gauges that fit him perfectly. Tyler thought he looked handsomely hardcore and the epitome of every adult’s worst nightmare when it came to the violence and uncontrollability of today’s youth. He looked to be a guy that no one would want to take to meet the parents, unless they were doing it purely out of spite. Tyler was sure the other cleaned up well if he ever felt so inclined, but he assumed that his intimidating and troublesome appearance probably wouldn't disappear when his bruises and cuts healed.

"I had a really shitty night last night, and I was kind of drunk. Heard the music coming from your room and I just had to come up here, I guess," Josh said, a little embarrassed but confident enough to lean against the edge of the open window. The warmth escaping the room enveloped him, and he sighed in bliss. He hadn't felt heat in a very long time. Pretty much not since he had arrived in Columbus.

"Shitty night? I can tell," Tyler smirked as his eyes shifted over the other’s bruises. Josh averted his eyes and Tyler’s smile dropped as cursed his capabilities of being such a jerk. He hadn’t meant to be- it was just that he was socially inept. "You liked my music?” Tyler said, trying desperately to forget what he had just said and shift the mood. “It doesn't seem like your type of music." Tyler hoped that shift was good enough.

Josh looked up at him, deep brown eyes boring into him. "I like a lot of different types of music,” Josh said with a smirk, challenging, “I can enjoy music other than screaming.” Tyler felt the tips of his ears heat up in embarrassment and he suddenly felt intimidated. He had entered the conversation too cocky and had forgotten that the stranger in from of him looked to be naturally hardcore and unforgiving. 

“I mean,” Tyler muttered, “I like screaming too. Sometimes.” He could see Josh smile from where he was looking down at his lap. 

“That's cool,” Josh said, most likely not believing him, “that's cool.”

"Where do you live?" Tyler asked, careful and prepared himself for a potential punch if his curiosity was taken the wrong way. Josh was quiet, studying Tyler’s face instead of answering. "I-I’m asking ‘cause I’ve never seen you before..." Tyler was sure he would remember him if he saw him before. How could he forget such attire, piercings and hair? Josh didn't exactly fit in, but Tyler had a feeling the punk had never really fit in.

Josh shrugged. "I'm not from here. But I ‘live’ wherever I can find a place to sleep.” Tyler tried not to look so surprised. “Preferably a place with a roof, but I'm not too picky when it gets down to it,” Josh said with a light laugh. Tyler didn't think it was funny.

The information made Tyler’s chest feel strange and he suddenly felt a sense of worry come over him. "Where did you stay last night?" he asked. Josh wiped his nose with the back of his bruised hand and looked at him. 

"I found an abandoned car ten minutes from here." Josh answered, pointing in the general direction of the car.

It was silent for a moment, soft music filling the abandoned space left for conversation. Josh couldn't help but hum in contentment at the flowing melodies escaping the room. Tyler’s previous worried demeanor faded as he smiled gently. "You really like this music?" he asked softly, checking just to make sure, like a little kid that was trying to impress someone older and cooler. Josh nodded sleepily and slipped his eyes closed, resting his head against the edge of the window and just listening, listening, listening.

Tyler watched as the punk’s features relaxed to the music that was soothing his external and internal hurt. As soon as he began to yawn, however, Tyler tore his eyes away from his acquaintance and read the digital clock on his desk. 1:27 A.M. He returned to the red-haired man leaning against the edge of the window. 

"Hey,” Tyler whispered with a natural cadence that sounded like one of the voices that floated from the vinyl. Josh’s eyes slipped open at the sound. “I have to go to bed...sorry..." Tyler fidgeted with his hands, hating that he had to interrupt the other man’s peace. Josh answered with a yawn of his own and Tyler smiled.

"No worries,” Josh said. “It was nice meeting you, Tyler." He said, shaking Tyler's hand once more. Josh turned to leave but before he could make it to the edge of the roof to scale down it, a voice beckoned him. 

"Wait!" Tyler spoke up hurriedly. Josh obeyed for once in his life and watched as the boy disappeared in his room again, out of sight. The punk stretched his arms above his head as he waited for the other to return, popping his sore joints.

Tyler returned a few seconds later holding a thick, folded blanket. "Here, you can have this. I don't need it,” Tyler said as he held it out to Josh. Josh simply stared at it before taking it carefully. 

"Are you sure?" 

Tyler nodded. 

"Thank you." 

Josh left the roof and returned back to the abandoned car, not panting in pain as hard along the way. He slipped into the back seat, and shucked his boots off, making sure they were tucked underneath the passenger seat. He curled up into the abundance of blanket he now had, inhaling the scent like it was a drug. It smelt of pure warmth and fresh laundry and something else that made him feel high. Josh sighed, feeling sleep take hold of him.

|-/

Tyler closed the window and turned off the lamp on his desk, the record on the record player adjacent to it coming to a stop. Slipping under the sheets of his bed, Tyler’s mind wandered. 

He smiled to himself at the thought of such a strange thing happening but prided himself on his ability to suppress his anxiety long enough to actually talk to a stranger and even give him a blanket. His uncle had told him to give to others what you have, and you will receive in your time of need in return. It was good karma to give to others, even if the other person was a beaten, punk rock stranger not from Columbus.

For some unknown reason, Tyler felt a certain heartbreak as he fell asleep. He had never interacted with someone as he had done tonight and the night previous for over six months and the thought of never seeing the punk again was slightly upsetting. Such a thought of kind strangers entering and leaving him so willingly made him feel abandoned, but he managed to fall asleep despite the hollow feeling in his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

Tyler saw the punk again. Many times.

Over and over, night after night, Josh would scale up the side of the house to Tyler’s window, intent on returning whatever item Tyler had given him the night before. 

Since their first few encounters, Josh had 'showered,' in the sense that he had sprayed himself with a water hose in thirty degree weather. It was always brief but it was very much needed. The blood that matted his hair had washed away in the current of frigid water and his clean locks revealed a bruised face. Almost like makeup, each injury was a kind of contouring which brought out his features in a most violent way. Finishing his poor excuse for a shower, Josh had of course returned to Tyler’s window to give him his items back.

“I told you you could keep it,” Tyler had said when Josh tried to return the small bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap Tyler had given him.

“No,” Josh said as he had pushed the items toward him, “it’s all about balance, karma and shit. Please just take them.” And Tyler did and Josh said thank you.

It happened like this for five days. Tyler gave Josh something for him to take each night and the next night, Josh would return it. Their ritual was only completed with a late night conversation. 

The two talked till two in the morning each night, listening to records embedded with tears and loneliness that were all too familiar to the pair. 

“Radiohead?” Tyler had asked Josh when Josh had gone on about an album called ‘Ok Computer.’ 

“Yeah,” Josh said, “it's one of my absolute favorites. And that album’s not entirely screaming, so hah.” Tyler was expressionless and Josh zeroed in on his apparent uncertainty. “Wait. You have to have heard that album.” Tyler looked down. “Oh, dude!” Josh had sat up with a look of genuine shock and Tyler had given a shy smile. “If I had some fuckin’ money, I would go buy it for you but I'm poor right now. Maybe when I get some money, I’ll get you one of the best albums ever, okay?” And Tyler had smiled.

The next night Josh wandered to the window, ‘Ok Computer’ was spinning on the record player and Josh felt strangely warm despite how cold it was. They had listened to the whole album that night, Josh looking at the sky and closing his eyes and whispering song meanings and Tyler listened intently, watching the way the bruises on Josh’s jaw moved when he talked. Tyler hadn't been tired that night. When the album ended, Tyler said he wanted to listen to it again. Right now. But Josh had smirked and said, “Maybe another time. I'm falling asleep.”

Right before he had left, though, Josh had picked up the needle from the middle of the vinyl and had put it back to the edge at the starting point. After the first few notes of “Airbag” began playing, Josh had given Tyler another smile and left. Tyler had listened to the record again instead of going to bed, trying to remember all that Josh had told him about each track.

The next day, Josh had told Tyler that it wasn't this cold in Austin and Tyler had asked what Austin was like. “It’s hot, freakishly hot,” Josh had said, “and the local music is great and the food is amazing. It’s beautiful.”

And Tyler asked, “When is it the most beautiful?”

And Josh answered, “Night.”

The window was their portal to each other and to the separate worlds, planets, they seemed to live in. A planet where people were beaten and lived in cars gravitated toward another planet where people listened to sad records and gave strangers blankets and towels to wipe the blood from their face. The universe turned.

Sometimes they simply sat in silence, taking in the hum of the music and the harmony of the chilly wind. Conversation turned light occasionally so it wouldn't break the invisible glass that partially separated them. It was an unspoken rule of privacy. Tyler didn't ask Josh how he got his bruises out of fear Josh would get offended and never come back and in the same way, Josh never asked Tyler anything except for music related questions, fearing he would pry too deep and the would be banished from the roof to never hear beautiful melodies again.

Tonight, they sat in silence. Josh laid down on his back by the window, his head resting on the windowsill as he looked at the moon. He had grown much closer to Tyler and considered him a friend rather than an acquaintance and with that natural closeness came the permission to lay his head on the windowsill right beside Tyler’s elbow. Tyler rested his chin on his open palm and in their shared silence he looked between Josh and the moon, back and forth. Radiohead muttered on the record player beside him.

"Are you real?" Tyler said, feeling lost in the current atmosphere for some reason. Josh lay there silently, unsure of how to answer. Josh was here. True. But Josh seemed to struggle with reality. His current life was one that only happened to other people, chance meetings with interesting people that were frighteningly complex with gentle souls. Josh was living in a surreal dream, one where he listened to music on roofs and put his shoes under the passenger seat. Josh gave a deep exhale. And Tyler knew what he meant. Tyler looked up at the moon, studying every crater as though he’d never see it again and Thom Yorke cried in vinyl. 

Something was off about tonight, something too sad and fragile in the air. Tyler was prone to overthinking and he could feel himself approaching that territory now. He wanted to touch Josh, tighten his fingers in the fabric of Josh’s shirt at his shoulder, hold onto him so he knew he’d be okay. Tyler kept his hands to himself.

"Tell me something about you," Tyler spoke softly. Josh turned his head and met Tyler’s eyes. Josh’s look was a silent question of his sudden motivation to speak and Tyler understood. It was a habit they had fallen into- knowing what the other meant despite not speaking. It was as though they had forged a relationship centuries ago. "I want to hear another voice,” Tyler whispered, “so I know I'm not alone." 

And Josh understood.

“I mess up sometimes," Josh started. "That's how I got beat up. For being stupid and making bad decisions." Tyler watched Josh watch the stars. “I find excuses to be a savage person. I get so caught up in everything, frustrated, I do rash things. Sometimes I don't feel human. I'm animal, sometimes. Just. Rash."

“That’s human nature in its most basic form, though,” Tyler offered quietly. “Action. The desire to feel through action. That's human.”

"I guess so."

They watched the stars and a breeze moved Josh’s hair from his face. 

"I was hungry for money too," Josh added. "I didn't need a lot of convincing to fight at that club. I don't even like fighting. I'm just...frustrated. Stuck." 

And Tyler didn't feel so alone in that moment. Tyler was frustrated and upset and stuck too, so stuck in whatever this life was that he was living. And Josh knew what it was like. He was the same. They weren't alone.

Tyler didn't stop himself this time from sliding his hand across the desk to rest the tips of his fingers on Josh’s shoulder. It was barely contact but it was enough for Josh to turn and look at him, not mad or upset or annoyed like Tyler thought. Josh simply watched. Tyler could feel the warmth pushing through the stitches of Josh’s torso and it was tangible, something that confirmed that Josh was indeed here with him, sharing in the same doubt and uncertainty that he had suffered so long alone with. Tyler looked down at his clock and saw it was already two. 

Tyler retracted his hand slowly, bringing his hand to his lap, signaling their departure. 

Josh sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head. 

"Goodnight,” Tyler said.

They looked at each other a little longer and Josh studied Tyler’s face for something Tyler didn't know.

“Goodnight, Tyler,” Josh said before turning away and sliding off the roof with barely a sound. The wind blew once more and the branches of the nearby trees shuttered.

'Ok Computer' came to a stop on the record player. Tyler picked up the needle and placed it back on the edge. The music started again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to "No Surprises," by Radiohead. It's on the 'Ok Computer' album. I think it accompanies this chapter well.


	4. Chapter 4

Tyler woke absolutely freezing. 

There was no way the heat was on; if anything, the AC was on. Tyler cursed his landlord as he shivered roughly under his many covers. Lyle would rather Tyler suffer frostbite than pay unnecessarily for heat. It took great effort but the boy hurried from bed and threw on a sweatshirt and an extra pair of socks before going downstairs to where his landlord was surely hoarding all the heat.

Tyler knocked gently upon the door of his landlord's bedroom, afraid that if he knocked any harder he'd suffer the wrath of the monster within. Sure Tyler was pissed but that didn't make him any less scared of the man on the other side of the door, the one that had the power to kick him out and the control over the heat. Tyler shivered again.

The door finally opened to reveal a man with wrinkled skin and gray hair, a deep frown set on his face. Tyler flinched but tried to play it off as another shiver, although hit was executed poorly. The man didn't say a word to the other and instead stared Tyler down with clear intimidation. 

"Um...it's really cold upstairs. C-Can you turn on the heat?" Tyler curled his fingers in his sweatshirt, praying his landlord would show him mercy and save him from freezing to death.

“If you want heat all throughout the blizzard,” the man said, “you're gonna have to pay extra. Heat’s expensive.”

“Blizzard?” Tyler didn't know anything about a blizzard. His mind wandered to the punk currently sleeping in a car, growing anxiety making him grip the fabric in his hands tighter.

“Yeah, tonight. Now you gonna pay or what?”

Tyler sighed, patience slipping.

“Yes. I'll pay. Just turn on the heat upstairs.”

The other man gruffed out a deep sound of agreement and Tyler disappeared upstairs   
again, nearly pumping his fists in the air in celebration of the battle won.

The heat was already kicking back on once Tyler made his way back to his room, making sure to grab the remote for his small television from the mess on the floor. It was a shitty tv he had picked up from Goodwill but it worked well enough to tune into the local news and show the giant pink blob labeled “Snow” making its way to Columbus. The weatherman talked through occasional static about how the storm would hit late tonight and last for at least five days. Everything would be buried in snow. Josh.

Tyler couldn't help but think of Josh as he watched gloomy clouds heavy with ice cover the sky just outside his window. There was no way the punk would survive in a car in the middle of nowhere for five days buried in snow. Josh was tough but not blizzard tough. He was from Texas. Josh didn't know anything about snow. 

Tyler brought his thumb to his mouth, chewing his fingernail as he watched the radar of snow slowly approaching.

|-/

The same time that night, Josh appeared, holding the pair of thick socks Tyler let him borrow the night before. Tyler took them without looking up, mumbling his thanks quietly.

Tyler was nervous. He didn't know if his proposal would end in Josh getting offended or if it would be awkward or frighten him. Josh could say no. Tyler didn't know what he'd do if Josh said no. Tyler swallowed roughly as he tried to form the words he would say to get Josh to stay. 

“Hey, you okay?” Tyler whipped his head up to see Josh looking at him with a worried look, eyebrows furrowed and a small frown on his face. Tyler looked down again briefly, heat crawling up his neck and to the tips of his ears despite the cold coming in from the open window.

"I was watching tv today," Tyler said, “and the news was saying it was gonna snow, but like, a lot of snow. It's going to be a blizzard. It's coming in tonight." Josh nodded absently as he tore a loose string off his sleeve, not really getting the severity of the situation.

"That sucks. I might have to borrow an extra blanket tonight.” 

Tyler couldn't help himself from shaking his head vigorously back and forth in desperation. He couldn't let Josh go back. He'd die most likely. Josh raised an eyebrow.

“No?”

“No!” Tyler said. “Wait, no. I-..um…” Tyler blushed again but forced himself to take a deep breath and try again.

"I was thinking, um,” Tyler said, “you could just stay here until the storm passes." When Josh didn't immediately answer, Tyler looked back up at him with fear in his face and began rambling uncontrollably. "I wouldn't feel right making you sleep in a car. When those things get cold, it's pretty much a refrigerator. That won't protect you at all. You could get frostbite or starve and that would be shitty, like really shi-" 

Tyler stopped as soon as Josh smiled.

"If you would have me,” Josh said quietly, “I would love to take you up on your offer, Tyler." 

They stared at each other, Josh looking expectant and Tyler with his mouth open in shock. His fingers were still fidgeting in his lap and his heart was beating much too fast. Josh scooted closer to the window and peered inside. "So...can I come in?" Tyler nodded, embarrassed. He got up and moved to the side so Josh could step on his desk and fully into the warmth. As soon as the older boy was inside, he leaned his head back and sighed dramatically at the warmth, wiggling his fingers in front of him as they finally began to thaw.

Tyler made quick work of closing the window behind him before moving over to locking the door to his room. When Tyler looked back at his new guest, Josh was lifting an eyebrow suggestively, asking silently what exactly they would be doing that they would need to lock the door. Of course it was a joke but Tyler was too frazzled to brush it off. 

“N-No! I-I,” Tyler stuttered as he looked down at his shoes. It was so weird having the boy in his room when he had been outside the window for so long. He was freaking out. "It’s just that my landlord isn't the nicest guy, and if he knew you were in here, he'd either have you paying rent or he'd kick me out."

Josh nodded with a light laugh, the sound easing Tyler's nerves a little bit. "I'll be quiet," Josh whispered with a snarky grin that made Tyler bite his lip and look away. He needed to calm down. This was fine, everything was fine.

Tyler hurried to his closet, leaving the punk to stand idly by as he withdrew a myriad of blankets and pillows from the depths of the closet. It was so much he was barely able to hold them all. He had forgotten he had most of these.

"Where do you want to sleep?" Tyler asked over the horde of comfort items in his arms. “I was gonna take the floor if you wanted the bed, but it's whatever you're most comfortable with, I just-”

“Tyler.”

“Yeah?”

“Relax,” Josh said with a smile. And Tyler did. Releasing a long exhale of a breath he didn't know he was holding, Tyler’s muscles loosened considerably.

“Sorry. It's just...a new thing. Having a guest over. Having...you...over."

“I promise I'm a good guest,” Josh said. “And you will not be sleeping on the floor, Tyler. You get your bed and I'll have the floor.” Tyler opened his mouth to protest but Josh was already cutting him off. "I'm taking the floor, Tyler." Tyler nodded hesitantly.

The younger male walked past Josh and began arranging the blankets and pillows on the ground directly beside his bed. Layers and layers of blankets were piled up with four pillows of varying sizes were deposited where Josh would lay his head. Tyler didn't have much but by the end, Josh’s new bed didn't look too bad. He took strange pride in his creation, smiling down at it and then looking back at Josh for approval.

“Thank you very much Tyler,” Josh said. “You didn't have to do all this and I appreciate it so much. It looks great. Thank you.”

Tyler nodded and looked back down at his feet, hands balling up in his sleeves. 

“Whoa, is that it?”

Tyler looked up at Josh’s question and followed his shocked gaze to the television where the news was on mute. The blizzard was much closer; they had made it just in time.

“Yeah,” Tyler said, teeth digging into his fingernail again. “It's gonna be bad.” Tyler turned back to his guest, standing there before him with a smile on his face. Tyler's breath stopped.

“Thank you again.”

And Tyler felt heat flood his face.

|-/

They ended up on their respective beds as they watched a movie on the tv. The image was a little fuzzy and the audio was a little shot but it was perfect for them. 

Josh was making jokes throughout the film and giving quiet commentary that made Tyler giggle and smile for as long as Josh was talking. It still didn't feel real to either of them but the initial awkwardness and anxiety had since tapered off and they were conversing like they did every other night.

Hours passed and Tyler's eyes were growing heavy as he watched a fuzzy image of a cowboy rocketing through the Wild West, gun in hand as he chased after a masked bandit. It was past one in the morning and Tyler was barely hanging on.

“Ty?”

“Hm?”

“You got quiet.”

“Mm.”

Josh looked up at Tyler then, watching as his eyes finally shut. The punk stared practically in awe at the sight before him. 

Tyler’s pink lips were barely parted, revealing a hint of crooked teeth that made Josh’s heart speed up for whatever reason. Eyes shut and soft eyelashes resting on his cheeks, Tyler looked more relaxed than Josh had ever seen him. He knew Tyler must be an anxious guy but here he looked in heaven with warm clothes wrapped around him as he sat on a comfortable bed. Josh followed the movement of Tyler’s chest to where his fingers twitched at the hem of his sweatshirt, already dreaming of something. 

Josh couldn't shake the feeling of something warm twisting in the pit of his stomach and behind his ribcage. He couldn't identify it. It wasn't fear or anxiety or excitement; it was a combination of the three yet something entirely new and different than what he had ever felt when looking at another male. Josh took a few deep breaths, willing his heart to stop racing.

He stood quietly from his bed on the floor, stepping over notebooks and pens so he could turn off the tv and the lamp sitting on the desk. Josh spotted ‘Ok Computer’ on the record player and he smiled, that same twist in his stomach coming back. This boy that stuttered and got flustered much too easily would be the death of him, he just knew it.

Josh made his way back over to the bed to see that Tyler had laid down completely during the brief time he was gone. He didn't want to be weird and stare at someone sleeping but there was some kind of emotion triggered by the sight that made Josh run his hands down his face and quietly groan. He was trapped in a room with a boy that made his stomach feel strange for the next five days. He was fucking doomed.

As Tyler had fallen asleep on top of all his blankets, Josh bent down and grabbed the heftiest quilt Tyler had given him and instead laid it on top of the sleeping boy, tucking him in gently. Tyler mumbled in his sleep then, soft lips barely moving as a short breath left him and Josh bit his lip, hurrying up and falling onto his bed on the floor so he wouldn't have to face the struggle that was his confusing sexuality. 

The moon casted just enough light that Josh could see through the window the torrent of snow falling from the dark sky. Although it was beautiful, Josh wouldn't have been able to survive out there. He would've been frozen by morning. Tyler gave another tiny hum in his sleep and Josh sighed at the feeling of something churning in his gut. It was going to be a long five days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to potentially change the rating on this as well as add a few tags. I'm thinking eventual smut, but we'll see. If that's what you guys want, that's what I'll give you.
> 
> Thanks for reading and having patience with my shitty writing (especially on this piece; I don't know why I have trouble with this fic). I look forward to reading your comments and I appreciate your engagement in not only this fic, but my others as well. I cannot thank you enough.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you have an awesome day/evening/night/in between/whatever. Thanks again!


	5. Day 1

Tyler and Josh stood by the window, a quilt wrapped around Tyler’s shoulders and Josh with bright colored bedhead. Outside, the landscape was erased by a thick sheet of snow that covered everything in sight. Suddenly, there was no familiarity, no history, no memories attached to the land before them. It was new, somewhere abandoned cars and farms didn't exist. All those shitty nights alone in a car were gone in a blanket of white. A new beginning. 

They stood for a little while by the window before looking at each other, sleep still evident in their faces. "Can we just sleep all day?” Tyler said as he looked out the window again. Josh gave a hum of agreement and they gave one final look at the torrent of snow falling from the sky and onto the long stretch of nothingness. Returning to their respective beds, both boys buried themselves in pillows and blankets before nodding back off to sleep. 

|-/

They both finally woke when the clock read 9pm, the light through the window already waning on the farther side of dusk. Josh stayed put as Tyler went downstairs to get food, leaving Josh the perfect opportunity to really take in the room.

Dimly lit by small lamps of orange light, it was a cozy little room made even cozier with the mild clutter that seemed to span every surface. There were books and spirals on each desk and shelf, clothes on the floor in random spots and sketchbooks, drawings and paintings scattered around haphazardly.

Josh’s eyes drifted to the window but not before taking note of an open notebook on the desk below it and the record player beside it with a vinyl already on it, needle halfway to the center. It was still snowing, the moon now illuminating each snowflake falling outside the window like glitter. They didn't have this back in Texas. 

Josh sighed, bringing his sleepy gaze forward, almost ready to fall back asleep but then he was suddenly awake when he saw two instruments tucked in a corner behind a few pairs of jeans and shirts on the floor. A cheap keyboard rested under a pile of clothes, only one octave really visible and a small wood guitar with only four strings sat beside it, propped up on the wall- a ukulele. Live music was something Texas did have but everyone played electric or acoustic guitar, never ukulele. Josh didn't think he had ever heard one live. Josh wanted nothing more than to here Tyler play it.

Tyler came back a few minutes later with two bowls of Mac and cheese, one in each hand. Closing the door with his hip, he stepped over the mess scattered on the floor and handed Josh a bowl before sitting crossed legged on top of his own bed a foot or two above Josh’s makeshift one, ready to tuck in.

“Oh dude, this looks so sick,” Josh said before took the fork and began to shovel cheesy pasta into his mouth without hesitance. Tyler tried not to laugh as Josh wolfed down the bowl, but his smile faltered when he thought of the reason Josh was so hungry.

“What were you eating out there?” Tyler said with a bite of his lip, unsure if it was okay to ask about his time being essentially homeless. Josh was too preoccupied with his meal to notice Tyler’s doubt or interpret his question as anything other than caring.

“Um,” Josh said around a mouthful of Mac and cheese, “candy bars. Chips. Cheap stuff at gas stations.” Then Josh looked up with a wide smile on his face, eyes squinting with pure joy. Tyler’s could feel his face get hot again. “This is the first real meal I've had in awhile and it's so fucking good. I honestly didn't know mac and cheese could ever be this good.”

“W-Well, my last name isn't ‘Kraft’ for nothing.”

“Wait,” Josh looked up at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, “you're last name is actually Kraft? As in Kraft Mac and cheese?! You're an heir to the Kraft fortune?!”

Tyler bit his lip and looked down again, heat again in his cheeks.

“N-No,” Tyler said, “it was just a joke…”

There was silence and then laughter that made Tyler look back up to see Josh was smiling widely with his scrunching up again. 

"I know, Tyler," Josh chuckled. Tyler felt stupid.

The laughter died down and Tyler waited for Josh’s response to his shitty joke that fell flat. He braced himself for Josh to say something along the lines of, ‘What a fucking loser,’ or ‘What the fuck is coming out of your mouth?’ or ‘Do you even think before you speak?’ Tyler bit lip even harder as Josh’s smile finally faded.

“You get anxious a lot, huh?” Josh said.

Tyler felt like he was going to die. He wanted to hide under the covers and wait till Josh just decided to leave. Josh was sick of him already, this was a bad idea, this-

“No, no, no,” Josh said, worry evident in his voice as he read the distress in Tyler's face, “I didn't mean anything by it. It’s just, I get anxious too. So I know how it is.”

“You...get anxious?” Tyler asked the boy with piercings and dyed hair and a rough exterior. No way he got anxious; Josh looked to be the epitome of confidence. Josh laughed.

“Yeah,” Josh said, “kinda bad, actually. I used to get panic attacks all the time but I'm getting better.” 

There was a beat of silence as Tyler tried to imagine someone like Josh being so anxious they suffered panic attacks. Josh was cool and interesting and funny, not anything like Tyler's antisocial, awkward, introverted self. Tyler's thoughts were interrupted as Josh gestured to the record player. “Think we could listen to some music?”

Tyler nodded, getting up and putting on Radiohead’s, 'The Bends.’ The music trickled in and Josh shook his head with a smile, leaning his head back on the wall behind him as the vocals came in. 

“Mac and cheese from Mr. Kraft himself AND some Radiohead to accompany dinner?” Josh shook his head in dramatic disbelief. “Such a romantic.” Heat crawled up the back of his neck to his ears, down to his cheeks and Tyler bit his lip. It was a joke, but something in it made Tyler's heart race.

“Tyler, try not to bite your lip so much,” Josh added as an afterthought, already returning to his Mac and cheese. “You'll hurt yourself.” It was a gentle suggestion, actually concerned and caring.

Tyler dropped his lip from in between his teeth and wiped the few specks of blood from his bottom lip with the back of his hand.

Josh smiled again, looking at Tyler sideways from where he was leaning his head back on the wall. His eyes scrunched up and Tyler decided that might be one of his favorite things ever.

|-/

“Tyler,” Josh said in the dark, lights out as they were ready to return to sleep now that it was three in the morning.

“Yeah?” Tyler whispered.

“I know it's not easy,” Josh said as he stared at the ceiling, “but you don't have to be anxious around me.” 

Tyler was silent.

“You don't have to explain anything to me, but I can see how anxious you are and I know how shitty anxiety feels,” Josh said. "I just, I don't want you to feel shitty around me. I want you to feel good, comfortable. If I ever do something or say something that makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I'll fix it. I'm here if you need anything. Just...I want you to feel okay, Tyler.”

Tyler bit the inside of his cheek, feeling something warm in his chest. Josh couldn't be real. He cared too much and actually understood the difficulties of living with the anxiety Tyler fought daily. Josh cared about Tyler like a friend. Tyler never had friends, but that was different now. Josh was a friend, although, maybe Tyler wanted Josh more than a friend.

Tyler turned onto his side and scooted closer to the edge of the bed so he could peek over it. Josh was below him, the moonlight coming through the window making the other boy barely visible but Tyler could clearly see Josh’s gaze shift from the ceiling to him, eyes comforting and patient.

“You don't make me feel like shit,” Tyler said, hushed voice sincere and genuine. “You make me feel the opposite, Josh.”

Josh was still for a moment before smiling gently and Tyler couldn't help but scoot closer to the edge of the bed and lay his head down, literally drawn to the other boy.

They stared at each other for a while, just staring, staring, staring. The shadows, the faint moonlight, the silence- it created an atmosphere of comfort and safety that made it a little easier for Tyler to muster up the courage to take his right hand and hang it off of the side of the bed near Josh’s head.

Josh continued to look at Tyler for a few more seconds before breaking his gaze so he could drag his eyes down the length of Tyler's arm to where his hand was barely touching the pillow under Josh's head. Josh brought his own hand up slowly and touched Tyler’s fingers with his own, gauging his reaction carefully. Tyler gave an involuntary twitch of his fingers, wanting to chase the sensation of physical touch.

Josh turned on his side and slid his hand toward Tyler’s, extending his fingers and slowly lacing them with the other boy's. Josh could feel the callouses, his blunt fingernails, his boney knuckles. It was perfect.

Josh and Tyler couldn't take their eyes off their hands, couldn't focus on anything else but the feeling of warmth and the weight of their fingers gently tangled together. Neither wanted to let go. Neither had plans to. 

Moonlight, snowfall, Josh’s fingers intertwined with Tyler’s in the dark- this was the opposite of anxiety.


End file.
